"The Noise Was Terrific": Sensory Titanic
Monochrome photos and scuffed film footage of the RMS Titanic—captivating though they are—often belie the obvious: she was not, in fact, a mute ship.
Her walls were not greyscale set-pieces; her passengers were not quaintly clad rooks on a chessboard.
Titanic was a lively, living vessel that was full of lively, living people. And as such, she sailed in a constant eddy of sound.
It was noisy on board.
There were the usual ambient noises, naturally, such as the wind and rush of Atlantic waves. And Lawrence Beesley, the bookish and astute Second-class passenger, recalled in detail the maritime soundtrack of seagulls as Titanic followed the coast.
In our wake soared and screamed hundreds of gulls, which had quarreled and fought over the remnants of lunch pouring out of the waist pipes as we lay-to in the harbor entrance… The gulls were still behind us when night fell, and still, they screamed and dipped down into the broad wake of foam which we left behind; but in the morning they were gone…
Excerpt from "The Loss of the S.S. Titanic" by Lawrence Beesley, published in 1912.
But the most notable noise on board was most certainly the thrumming. The ever-turning engines and propulsion of the ship caused a low-frequency vibration throughout the ship.
It was, in essence, Titanic's very heartbeat.
Jack Thayer, a 17-year-old traveling with his parents, recalled the effect.
There was the steady rhythmic pulsation of the engines and screws, the feel and hearing of which becomes second nature to one, after a few hours at sea.
Excerpt from "The Sinking of the S.S. Titanic" by Jack Thayer.
Most passengers grew accustomed to it rather quickly, although some wrote that they found it troubling at the start of the voyage—especially when trying to get to sleep. And depending on the particular whereabouts of one’s cabin, the omnipresent vibration often caused a collateral racket.
This was the unfortunate case for Second-class passenger Samuel Hocking.
You can hardly realise you are on board except for the jolting of the engines that is why it is such bad writing… I turned in at 10 o’clock last night, but could get no sleep owing to the rattle of water bottles, glasses and other things too numerous to mention so I was glad to get up at six o’clock...
Citation courtesy of "On Board RMS Titanic," by George Behe. 2012.
Samuel, like other perturbed passengers, mused that he would “soon get used to it.”
Above the persistent mechanical hum would have been the simple commotion of everyday life that played out in Titanic’s common areas.
With her multiple long promenades, Titanic was made for moseying about. And in spite of the April briskness, her passengers took full advantage. Conversations in this setting were probably private enough, likely intelligible from afar due to the sea winds.
But not everyone received the memo regarding on-deck decorum.
Multiple passengers in Second-class noted a loud jollity amongst the younger men on board.
Henry Hodges, who was on his way to Boston to visit with family, made mention of some notably raucous lads in a letter to a Mr. Hector Young. He posted the missive during Titanic’s stopover in Queenstown, Ireland, on 11 April.
On the top deck, there are about 20 boys, from 20 upwards, marching round and singing, others are playing dominoes and cards in the saloons. Some are reading, some writing.
Citation courtesy of "On Board RMS Titanic," by George Behe. 2012.
Fellow Second-class passenger Kate Buss seems to have heard these guys, too.
She was not a fan.
“Such a noise by the many youths aboard,” Kate wrote. “The second class is very mixed. Some very ordinary, and some very nice. One can really walk miles a day going around the decks.”
Kate didn’t always seem the tolerant sort when it came to noise, and seems to have been specifically irked by noisy children on board.
Promised to go on deck before breakfast, but I hear so many men about outside. I’m afraid to go on the deck below and fetch Miss W. Shall wait until I hear the dressing gong.… I hear a baby screaming now, two or three are on board... some seem to turn up only at meal times.
Citation courtesy of "On Board RMS Titanic," by George Behe. 2012.
Kate did, however, look fondly on two of the children nearby. The LaRoche daughters—3-year-old Simone and 1-year-old Louise—were “dolls running about.”
In steerage, the nearly 100 children under age 14 were also underfoot and surely making themselves heard as they played. Eliza Johnston, for example, wrote in a postcard to her father that “we are all feeling A1. The kids are skipping about like skylarks.”
Lawrence Beesley observed Third-class goings-on from afar, and he described a vibrant soundscape of music and play among the passengers on deck.
Looking down astern from the boat deck or from B deck to the storage quarters, I often noticed how the third-class passengers were enjoying every minute of the time: a most uproarious skipping game of the mixed-double type was the great favorite, while “in and out and roundabout” went a Scotchman with his bagpipes playing something that Gilbert says “faintly resembled an air."
Excerpt from "The Loss of the S.S. Titanic" by Lawrence Beesley, published in 1912.
Other populous areas on board were, without doubt, an ongoing orchestra of the mundane.
In the dining rooms, for instance: the shrill clatter of White Star Line china, the pushing and pulling of chairs on carpet, the pouring of teas, and the murmur of the waitstaff.
Of course, summoning the passengers to prepare for these mealtimes was a soundtrack unto itself. In First-class, Arthur Gee described it with a sense of humor.
Just finished dinner. They call us up to dress by bugle. It reminded me of some Russian villages where they call the cattle home from the fields by horn made from the bark of a tree.
Citation courtesy of "On Board RMS Titanic," by George Behe. 2012.
In Second-class, Juliette LaRoche, the mother of the aforementioned “dolls” Simone and Louise, described a similar experience in a letter to her father back in France. “The chime of the bell announcing breakfast woke them up. Louise laughed a lot at it…”
Juliette went on to describe yet another element of the auditory experience on Titanic: that of near-ubiquitous music.
“I am writing from the reading room,” she wrote. “There is a concert in here, near me, one violin, two cellos, one piano.”
The Titanic was equipped with a reported six Steinway pianos of varying models; three were located in First-class, two were located in Second-class, and the last was for the use of steerage passengers.
While the First-class pianos were reserved for Titanic's musicians, record exists of passengers playing the pianos in both the Second- and Third-Classes.
One of the two Second-class Steinways was played upon by 27-year-old Robert Douglas Norman during an impromptu hymn service held by Reverend Ernest Carter, a fellow passenger, on the same evening as the iceberg strike.
The Third-class piano, located in the general room on C-Deck, existed solely for passengers—and it was certainly used, particularly during the party held on the night of the iceberg strike.
Gershon Cohen wrote that, even in the immediate aftermath of the collision, "people were singing and playing the piano, and the band [of passenger musicians] was still playing."
Eugene Daly corroborated Gershon's recollection. "I played the pipes and there was a great deal of dancing and singing. This was kept up even after we had struck."
When Titanic collided with the iceberg, the sound experience varied drastically per passenger.
Some reported that they heard nothing at all.
Third-class passenger Elin Hakkarainen wrote that she and her husband Pekka were in their cabin when they "heard a scraping sound... a few moments later the throb of the engines stopped."
In First-class, Jack Thayer had just come back from a jaunt up on deck.
I went onto the boat deck – it was deserted and lonely. The wind whistled through the stays, and blackish smoke poured out of the three forward funnels… It was the kind of a night that made one feel glad to be alive.
Excerpt from "The Sinking of the S.S. Titanic" by Jack Thayer.
Jack returned to his quarters soon thereafter and prepared for bed as he listened again to the wheezing wind. "I had half opened the port [window], and the breeze was coming through with a quiet humming whistle," he wrote.
Then Titanic struck the iceberg.
Jack's account of what unfolded is a testament to chaos and cacophony.
The noise was terrific. The deep vibrating roar of the exhaust steam blowing off through the safety valves was deafening, in addition to which they had commenced to send up rockets… After standing there for some minutes talking above the din, trying to determine what we should do next, we finally decided to go back into the crowded hallway where it was warm.
Excerpt from "The Sinking of the S.S. Titanic" by Jack Thayer.
Jack jumped overboard, finding refuge on the overturned Collapsible B.
Still, he could hear it all.
The roaring of the exhaust steam suddenly stopped, making a great quietness, in spite of many mixed noises of hurrying human effort and anguish. As I recall it, the lights were still on, even then. There seemed to be quite a ruddy glare, but it was a murky light, with distant people and objects vaguely outlined. The stars were brilliant and the water oily…
Occasionally there had been a muffled thud or deadened explosion within the ship. Now, without warning she seemed to start forward, moving forward and into the water at an angle of about fifteen degrees. This movement, with the water rushing up toward us was accompanied by a rumbling roar, mixed with more muffled explosions. It was like standing under a steel railway bridge while an express train passes overhead, mingled with the noise of a pressed steel factory and wholesale breakage of china...
Excerpt from "The Sinking of the S.S. Titanic" by Jack Thayer.
According to Jack, Titanic's stern soundlessly slipped beneath the surface of the water.
And the wails began.
Titanic went under the water with very little apparent suction or noise… Praying and cursing and cries of entreaty and words of command came from those of us packed like sardines on the hull of [overturned Collapsible B].
Probably a minute passed with almost dead silence and quiet. Then an individual call for help, from here, from there; gradually swelling into a composite volume of one long continuous wailing chant, from the fifteen hundred in the water all around us. It sounded like locusts on a mid-summer night, in the woods in Pennsylvania.
This terrible continuing cry lasted for twenty or thirty minutes, gradually dying away, as one after another could no longer withstand the cold...
Excerpt from "The Sinking of the S.S. Titanic" by Jack Thayer.
Even today, Titanic still has a voice.
According to some who have visited the Titanic's wreck site, the ship groans against the deepwater currents. It sounds, supposedly, like a creaky old house in the wind.
SOURCE MATERIAL
Hyslop, Donald, Alastair Forsyth, and Sheila Jemima. "Titanic Voices: Memories from the Fateful Voyage." Sutton Publishing Limited, 1997.
Behe, George. "On Board RMS Titanic: Memories of the Maiden Voyage." The History Press, 2012.
Beesley, Lawrence. "The Loss of the S.S. Titanic." Houghton Mifflin Company, 1912. Rpt. by Mariner Books, 2000.
Bile, Serge. "Black Man on the Titanic: The Story of Joseph Laroche." Mango Publishing, 2019.
https://newengland.com/yankee/history/titanic-survivor/
https://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/community/threads/the-pianos.53155/